


Friendly Fire

by andrastesgrace (RoxieFlash), gallifreyslostson



Series: Family Assembled [7]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:59:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxieFlash/pseuds/andrastesgrace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyslostson/pseuds/gallifreyslostson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A question of strength and stamina is out of Steve’s hands when Peggy gets involved.</p><p>Headcanon regarding Howard’s throwaway line about Peggy’s 107 one-armed pushups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Fire

“Oh please, I could take a little punk like you with one hand tied behind my back.”

“In a fight, sure, no contest, I’m dead, I’ve seen what happens to the little guy in a mismatch,” Bucky told Dugan, casting a meaningful look at Steve.  “Once upon a time, before Cinderella here met his godmother.  But when it comes to actual stamina, the ability to hold out, let’s face it, you’re a one shot wonder.”

“You know, Barnes,” Dugan said, pausing to empty his stein and slam it on the table.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded like a challenge.”

“Alright, guys, settle down,” Steve sighed, grabbing his own mug wearily.  “We don’t need to go there.”

“Easy for you to say, Captain America, with your biceps of patriotism,” Bucky snorted.  “And anyway, it’s just a...friendly competition, right Dugan?”

“Stamina is never something I’ve had complaints about either, Barnes,” Dugan argued mildly, winking at the barmaid as she brought him another beer.

“So then there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Bucky countered, and Steve rolled his eyes.  When he caught sight of Peggy sauntering closer with an arched eyebrow, he immediately sat up straighter, a movement that wasn’t lost on his friends.

“Well, well, well,” Bucky said, glancing up at Peggy.  “Look who’s decided to grace us with her lovely presence.”

“Does that charm usually work for you, Sergeant Barnes?” she asked, signaling for her own drink.

“Usually, yeah,” Bucky said, watching Peggy draw up a chair next to Steve.  “But even I know some competitions aren’t worth it.  So what do you say, Dugan?”

“Ah, come on,” Dugan complained.  “No one is going to come away from that well.  You’ve got to deal with being beat, and I’ve got to deal with beating Captain America’s best friend.”

“You’re very confident, Corporal Dugan,” Peggy observed.  “Dare I ask what the competition in question entails?”

“Please don’t encourage them,” Steve moaned as his friends grinned at each other.

“What do you think, sit ups?” Bucky suggested as Steve shook his head, sinking lower in his chair as he realized he was fighting the tide.  “Whoever does the most?”

“Nah, pushups are more my thing,” Dugan said, lifting a hand and flexing his bicep before glancing at Peggy again.  “What do you think?”

“Pushups or sit ups is neither here nor there,” she said with a shrug.  “But if it’s a question of stamina, the fact is, I’ve had you both beat for years.”

“How do you figure?” Bucky asked with a frown.

“Well, far be it from me to claim to be a definitive authority, but I’d say anyone who can bleed for five days every month and not die wins.”

“I--oh.”  Dugan stopped, giving a thousand yard stare, while Bucky suddenly became incredibly interested in his beer.

“Well, that certainly shut them up,” Steve said, even as his ears burned.

“It’s just a fact of life,” Peggy said with a shrug.

“Okay, nature aside,” Bucky said, rallying finally, “you have to admit that I’d probably beat out Dugan in staying power.”

Steve saw the calculating look in her eye and groaned.  “Peg…”

“It’s entirely possible that you could beat Dugan,” she agreed, ignoring Steve completely, and he ran a tired hand over his face.  “But I think it’s also possible that I could beat both of you.”

“I’m sorry?” Dugan asked.  He traded a look with Bucky, then went on carefully, “Look, Agent Carter, far be it from me to say you _can’t_ do something just because you’re a girl--”

“Then I suggest you stop now, before you say something you regret,” Peggy cut in sweetly.

“...right.”

“Ah, Agent Carter, always fun to see you one upping your fellow soldiers,” Stark’s voice floated over them seconds before he was spotted.  “Dare I ask what shut them up this time?”

Steve crossed his arms and shook his head as the explanation spurred on the competition, pulling in the rest of the unit by force of machismo.  Before he knew it, tables and chairs were being pushed aside to make room for the competitors, all rolling their necks and stretching their arms.  Even Peggy was down to a sleeveless shirt, something Steve was trying incredibly hard not to notice while giving hard stares to anyone who did.

“Oh, good god, what fresh hell is this?” Colonel Phillips demanded as he walked into the pub.

“This brilliant display before you is what will shortly be a one-armed pushup contest,” Howard told him, returning to Steve’s table with a drink.

“Oh yeah?  Did you two already lose?”

“Steve is abstaining because he feels the serum gives him an unfair advantage.”

“Far cry from a couple of years ago, I’ll give you that,” Phillips said, looking Steve over before turning his attention back to Howard.  “And you?  What’s your excuse?”

“I’m abstaining because I don’t want to do pushups.”

“At least you're honest.”  Phillips turned to the friendly rivals again as they joked and found places with enough space between them, his eyes narrowing a little.  “Tell you what, who’s running the book?”  Steve and Howard glanced at each other, and Phillips made an irritated noise.  “I wasn’t born yesterday, boys.”

Howard cleared his throat awkwardly.  “I may have written down some information about a friendly wager or two.”

“That’s what I thought,” Phillips said.  “Right then, put me down for twenty dollars on Agent Carter.”

“Really?” Howard asked, both him and Steve whipping their heads around to the Colonel.  “Those are...ah, some pretty long odds.”

“I am aware,” Phillips said, already moving away to the bar.  “But I’m also aware that Carter likely has less alcohol in her blood and definitely has more to prove.  Give ‘em hell, Carter.”

“Yes sir,” Peggy said, fighting a smile at the colonel’s back.

“Is that the reason you’re using on why you bet on Peggy too?” Howard asked without looking up from the little notebook he was scribbling in.

“One of ‘em,” Steve said, watching her get down down on the floor with the rest of the unit.

At fifteen pushups, Howard crossed out Dernier’s name as the Frenchman stood up, muttering expletives in French as he made his way to the bar.

At thirty-seven, Falsworth surrendered from the floor with a groan.

“You know, I’m starting to understand how we won the revolution,” Dugan joked, barely out of breath.

“Because I wasn’t there?” Peggy asked, flashing a grin at him amidst the cheers.

At fifty, Howard and Steve agreed, as de facto judges, that everyone was allowed to switch arms...provided they could do so without falling to the floor.  Morita quickly joined the others at the bar, claiming California blood was more suited to exercise with water.

At eighty-three, Steve noticed that Peggy was breathing hard, and that that there were damp curls around her face.  His hand twitched with the desire to brush her hair away, and he clenched it into a fist.

Ninety-five pushups was Gabe’s limit, although Dugan’s face was starting to look redder than usual.

“You alright, corporal?” Bucky asked with a snarky tone.

“You just focus on yourself, kid,” Dugan snapped back.

He made it seven more before he groaned and fell to the floor.

“I need a beer or a lady,” he said from the wood.  “Or possibly a place to throw up in.”

“It’s a good thing we’re in a pub,” Howard observed, scratching out Dugan’s name in his notebook.  “All three are pretty accessible.”

“You need to switch arms, Peg?” Bucky asked at a hundred and five.

“Tired, Barnes?”

Both their arms were shaking, and they were both breathing hard.  They stared each other down as they went down again in time, and Bucky nearly made it back up.  Nearly.  His arm gave way, and he laid on the floor for a second before rolling onto his back and looking up at Peggy.

“What’s it gonna be, English?  A draw?”

“I made it back up,” she pointed out, still hovering on one arm.

“Double or nothing you can’t do it again,” he challenged, and Steve smiled a little at the flash in her eyes before she started to lower herself again.  Her arm started shaking violently, and Dugan started chanting her name from the bar.  Before long, everyone in the place was doing it, and her eyes shot to Steve’s for a second.  He smiled at her, a grin that only widened when she slowly pushed herself up again to a straight arm.  She held it for a second as cheers erupted before collapsing with a tired grin.

“You and the colonel are going to be rich men,” Howard commented.

“Good thing,” Steve said, standing up.  “Someone’s going to have to cover the tab.”

He made his way over to Bucky and Peggy, holding a hand out to each of them to help them up.  If his hand lingered a little longer in Peggy’s, well, no one seemed to notice, so no harm, no foul.  Bucky shook Peggy’s hand with a smirk before turning away, claiming he needed a drink, and Peggy turned to Steve with a triumphant expression.

“A hundred and seven one-arm pushups,” Steve said, finally unable to keep himself from reaching out and brushing a few curls back from her face.  “Gotta say, that’s impressive.”

“For a dame?” she asked, her tongue poking out a little from her teeth.

“For anyone,” he told her, letting his thumb trail over her jaw as he stepped closer.  “You just look better doing it.”

He watched in fascination as her breath caught, electricity sparking between them for an instant before he leaned forward--

“Three cheers for the pushup champ!” Dugan cried, breaking the moment as he handed Peggy a beer.  Steve shook his head at her rueful smile, cheering with the rest.

He did not feel bad about taking Dugan’s money later.  He decided it was a tax on lost opportunities.


End file.
